


Channel XXX

by eternaleponine



Series: Lexa the Cable Girl [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Lexa the Cable Girl, Porn with Feelings, Strap-Ons, thirsty clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28047276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: It's been three weeks since Clarke last saw Lexa, and she can't help but question whether her erstwhile hook-up is still interested.  Will the new toy she bought - and Lexa's sudden appearance in her apartment complex - be enough to get her to overcome her doubts and see where it takes them?
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Series: Lexa the Cable Girl [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2054520
Comments: 52
Kudos: 293





	Channel XXX

**Author's Note:**

> For obsessivechick on Tumblr, who requested a continuation of [Can I Get A Connection?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27191665) as part of my Will Write for Votes campaign.

Clarke stared at her screen, trying to concentrate on the design she was supposed to be working on, but her attention kept wandering to the box in the corner, which had arrived yesterday and which she hadn't yet allowed herself to open. She knew she should, at least to make sure she'd received what she'd ordered and there were no problems, but she knew as soon as she did, she would start thinking about Lexa. And as soon as she started thinking about Lexa, she wouldn't be able to stop.

It was why the box was there in the first place. 

Lexa had shown up at Clarke's door after her shift, just as she'd promised, and hadn't left until sometime after midnight, whistling tunelessly as she sauntered down the hall. Clarke hadn't quite managed to work up the courage – was it courage? – to ask her to spend the night. It had felt like a line she shouldn't cross so quickly with someone who was, at the end of the day, still a stranger. A random hook-up from a scenario straight out of a porn flick... who'd left her walking bow-legged for _days_. 

She'd called Lexa again a week later, and that time Lexa hadn't left until nearly dawn, grumbling about how she wasn't going to get _any_ sleep before her shift that day... but still coming back for three one-last-kisses, the second-to-last of which had ended with the two of them tangled on the couch, gasping and groping under layers of clothing for one final orgasm for the road. 

Clarke had waited another week to text to her again to invite her over – she didn't want to seem desperate or clingy, both of which her ex had accused her of – and Lexa had responded that she would love to, but she was out-of-town on vacation for two weeks. 

That had been three weeks ago. 

In that time Clarke had started – and deleted – at least a hundred text messages. She wanted to reach out, but part of her couldn't help thinking that Lexa's last message had been the politest possible brush-off. After all, who could afford to go on vacation for two weeks? Whose job even gave them that kind of time anymore? 

And if Lexa really wanted to see her, she had Clarke's number. _She_ could be the one to make the call this time. The fact that she hadn't was just further proof in Clarke's book that she wasn't interested. Maybe she had been once, but...

Still, it hadn't stopped her from clicking Buy Now when a toy she'd looked at before, more than once, popped up on her screen in a targeted ad that hit a little too close to home. She'd been unable to shake the image of Lexa...

Clarke rubbed her thighs together, trying to create just enough friction to ease the hot ache between them, but it was no use. She grabbed a pair of scissors and sliced open the tape, lifted her treasure from its bed of packing peanuts.

* * *

Lexa whistled to herself as she made her way back to her truck, trying not to think about where she was and her proximity to a certain someone who she told herself she needed to forget, because it was obvious she had lost interest. 

She'd started – and deleted – dozens of messages to her while she'd been away, trapped in family reunion hell, acting as tech support for every internet-not-savvy relative she'd ever met, and several she hadn't. She wasn't sure why she'd never sent them; maybe she hadn't wanted to impose? But would it really have been imposing to send a message that said, 'Hey, how are you?' or 'Save me from my crushing boredom!' or 'Do you miss me? I miss you...' 

Okay, so that last one might have been too much, however true it was. 

Hell, she'd even briefly considered sending Clarke one of the types of pictures she'd been warned never to send to anyone who might decide to blow you up on the internet if you ever pissed them off. (Not that she thought Clarke would. She wasn't that kind of person... was she? But how well did Lexa know her, really? Sure, she knew every intimate detail of her body, but next to nothing about her as a person. Why hadn't they talked more?) 

The last message she hadn't sent was still on her phone, waiting for her to just tap the button. Just two words that could change everything:

**Lexa:** I'm back.

She'd had almost enough liquid courage to send it last night. She'd been out with Lincoln, and he'd jokingly asked her, "Have you heard from Lady Sex Dungeon lately?" She'd almost started crying into her beer. He'd dropped the subject and bought another round, and packed Lexa into a Lyft an hour and two beers later.

She'd laid in bed, the world soft and fuzzy around her, and she'd almost sent it. Almost.

But she didn't – couldn't – do it. Because if she did, and Clarke didn't respond...

She'd just gotten back to her truck and was trying to unbuckle her tool belt when someone called out behind her.

"Excuse me!"

Lexa groaned, louder than she meant to, assuming it was the customer she'd just finished with needing 'just one more thing'. She'd been sent out because the woman said her modem was dead and needed replacing, only to discover upon arrival that the power strip it was plugged into was turned off. She didn't blame the customer for it (well, maybe a little), but she really wanted to give an earful to whoever had gone through troubleshooting with her, because 'Is it plugged in?' and 'Is the power on?' ought to have been the first two questions they asked. 

She'd consoled herself with the fact that it gave her a break before her next appointment (since she'd learned her lesson about showing up too early) and thought maybe she could catch a quick catnap to ease her hangover, but apparently she wasn't going to get that lucky. 

Lexa pasted on a smile and turned around.

* * *

Clarke took a step back as Lexa turned on her with a smile on her lips and murder in her eyes. But the anger quickly faded, replaced with... Clarke wasn't sure what. Or maybe she just didn't want to delude herself into seeing something that wasn't actually there. 

"Oh," Lexa said, barely audible and anything but disappointed. "It's you."

"It's me," Clarke agreed. "I, um. I was wondering if you had a minute?"

She watched as Lexa's long fingers slid the buckle of her tool belt back into place. Lexa crossed her arms, which pushed up her breasts just a little – and she wasn't wearing a bra again, and Clarke wondered if she ever did – and Clarke tried not to stare. "Did you need something?" she asked, and her tone was cool... or maybe wary? 

"I, uh. My cable is stuck on one channel and I can't get it off," Clarke said. She realized only after the words were out of her mouth how suggestive they were, and how straight out of the script of a bad porno they sounded. Then again, look how they'd met... Her cheeks flushed and she swallowed a nervous laugh.

Lexa looked at her, her head tipped to the side, then shrugged and pushed herself away from the truck. "Sure," she said. "I've got a minute."

Clarke wished she could think of a way to get Lexa to walk ahead of her, because the memory of that ass in those jeans was starting to fade and she wanted it fresh in her mind for later use. (God, what was _wrong_ with her? No one – male or female – had ever made her as thirsty as the woman who had fallen into step beside her.) She unlocked the door and held it open for Lexa to step inside, grabbing a quick peek before closing and locking it behind them. 

"So what's—" Lexa started to say, but was stopped by Clarke's mouth against her own. Which Clarke hadn't planned to do – she really did need help with her cable – but as soon as the opportunity presented itself, she hadn't been able to resist taking advantage.

_Was_ she taking advantage? Clarke started to back off, an apology already building on her tongue, but as soon as her lips broke from Lexa's, Lexa's long, strong hands were on her back, pulling her in again and sucking the words from her mouth. 

"Fuck," Clarke said, wiping a string of saliva from her lips when they couldn't handle the shortage of oxygen any longer. 

Lexa smirked. "Fuck," she agreed. "I fucking missed you."

_I fucking missed you._ Not 'I missed fucking you' although from the tautness of her nipples and the way she'd wedged her thigh between Clarke's as they kissed, that was almost certainly true, too. But that wasn't what she'd said. She'd said, 'I fucking missed you.'

"There's something I want to show you," Clarke said, hooking a finger into Lexa's tool belt and tugging her toward her bedroom. 

Lexa's lips twisted with amusement. "What could you possibly have in there that I haven't seen?" she asked. 

Clarke grinned. "It's new," she said. "I saw it and thought of you." 

"I'm intrigued," Lexa said. "Lead on." 

Clarke pushed herself up on her toes to steal another kiss as she drew Lexa through the door, which led to another, and another after that, and Lexa's hands under her shirt and her fingertips slipping under the waistband of Clarke's leggings, where they met no further resistance. Lexa moaned into Clarke's mouth as she cupped her ass in both hands, dragging her hips closer. 

Clarke let herself be pulled in and distracted, pushing Lexa's flannel back off her shoulders and dragging up the tank top underneath, raking her nails over her ribs and just barely teasing the underside of her breasts with the balls of her thumbs. Lexa made a sound somewhere between a whine and a whimper, pulling back from the kiss to fix Clarke with a look both heated and hungry. Clarke knew what she wanted, what she was silently begging for, and after another moment of teasing, she gave in and gave it to her, rolling her thumbs over the points of her nipples until they were rock hard under her touch, then pushed the tank all the way up and took first one, then the other, into her mouth. She brushed them with her lips, then traced them with her tongue, around and around before sucking them. Lexa's groan rumbled through her chest and Clarke felt it and smiled to herself.

Lexa finally caught Clarke's chin and lifted it from her breasts, bringing her back to her mouth to nip at her lips as she worked Clarke's pants down her hips and thighs, dragging her fingers back up when they pooled around Clarke's ankles and she kicked them away. She brushed lightly over the tangle of sodden curls at the crux, then reached under Clarke's shirt to unhook her bra. 

Clarke fumbled for the zipper of Lexa's jeans, but her toolbelt was in the way. Clarke growled with impatience and felt Lexa's smile against her cheek, drawing her hands back out from under Clarke's shirt, where she'd been traveling from her hips to just below her navel, to guide Clarke's fingers through the process of releasing the buckle. It landed on the floor with a thud that made them both laugh, just a little, before sinking back into each other and the process of undressing. 

When there was nothing left between them but skin, Lexa paused, her breath tickling Clarke's neck as she asked, "You had something to show me?"

* * *

"Mmm," Clarke murmured, arching into Lexa as her hand brushed over the gentle swell of her belly on its way downward. "Yes..." But it was unclear if it was a response to Lexa's question or a reaction to the press of Lexa's fingers between her legs, not doing anything more than adding a little pressure... yet. 

"Well?" Lexa prompted, teasing apart her lips with the tip of her middle finger, easily finding the swollen nub of Clarke's clit. "What is it?"

Clarke gasped, her head tipping back, before she fixed Lexa with an accusatory but amused look. "Do you want me to show you, or do you want—" She sucked in another breath as Lexa circled her finger with a feather-light touch. "Lexa!"

"No, I'm Lexa. You're Clarke. And yes, I want you," Lexa said. 

"I'm yours," Clarke groaned, wrapping her arms around Lexa's neck to steady herself as Lexa continued to do everything she could to make her legs wobbly. The words shot straight through Lexa's brain and down her spine, settling in her core... but also in other places where she probably shouldn't allow them to lodge, because you couldn't really believe anything said on the edge of orgasm.

Clarke quaked against her, but at the last minute pulled back, gasping, "Not yet," and Lexa immediately drew her hand away. She loosened her grip on Clarke, allowing her to turn and retrieve something from the bed, which she held up between them with a triumphant grin.

Lexa gulped.

She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, and maybe she shouldn't have been surprised, knowing what she did about Clarke's love of being fucked hard and deep. If it had been just another dildo, thicker or longer (or both) than the ones she'd railed her with on previous occasions, she would have happily strapped in and taken Clarke for a ride. But this...

When her ex had first brought home a strap-on, Lexa had been game to try being on the receiving end after seeing how much her partner enjoyed it. The experience had been... less than great. Maybe it had been that particular toy, or maybe it had been the technique, or maybe she'd just been too tense, or... Whatever the case, the end result was the same: she'd decided that rather than repeat the experiment, she would just become so good at being the one wielding the strap that her partner would never suggest a role reversal again.

What Clarke held wasn't the same thing, but would it really be any different? 

But Clarke looked so pleased with herself, and so hopeful...

"We can go slow," Clarke said, setting the two-headed toy back down and nuzzling against Lexa's throat, her lips brushing the tender skin behind her ear and along her collarbone. "And if you want to stop..." 

Lexa nodded, sliding her fingers into Clarke's hair, cradling her head as Clarke kissed here and there and everywhere, her fingers trailing over Lexa's skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. She shivered as Clarke's lips found her breasts again and her fingers ghosted between her legs. Lexa spread them without hesitation, and shuddered as Clarke circled a finger over and around the entrance of her core.

She felt Clarke moving and moved with her, her hips pulsing as Clarke continued to tease. The back of her legs hit the bed, and Clarke eased her down, silently urging her to lay back, to relax and let Clarke have her way. Her thighs fell to the sides as Clarke settled herself between them, pressing kisses down the flat plane of Lexa's stomach and then lower, until her lips were on Lexa's clit, planting kiss after kiss while her fingers continued to press and circle, and Lexa rolled her hips, her hands fisting in the sheets, wanting _more_.

Clarke's tongue flicked out, sending a jolt straight up Lexa's spine and shorting her brain, and at the same time Clarke slipped a finger into her, crooking it to caress her from the inside, and Lexa's back arched and she let out a long, low moan. 

Clarke hadn't been lying when she'd said they could take it slow, and the build-up was both excruciating and exquisite as she brought Lexa to the edge and backed off again, switching from kisses to licks to slow strokes, and just when Lexa's thought she couldn't take anymore, Clarke pressed her mouth over her and sucked, her tongue working overtime as she thrust a third finger into Lexa – who had hardly noticed when she'd added a second – and sent her careening over the edge. 

Lexa was only vaguely aware of Clarke reaching for something, of the sound of rustling and the flip of a cap. "May I?" Clarke asked, and Lexa just nodded, not knowing what she was asking and not caring because Clarke would never do anything to hurt her. Clarke would never...

She felt Clarke's tongue massaging her folds again, catching her clit and sending aftershocks through her. Then something cold between her legs, and pressure, and Clarke murmuring, "Shh, just relax..." Lexa breathed, let go... 

She looked down and saw the business end of the strapless dildo rising up between her legs, while the smaller part that had had butterflies swarming in her stomach only minutes before was snug inside her. It wasn't uncomfortable or painful like she'd feared it would be. It felt... good. 

And then when Clarke started to stroke the shaft, it felt better than good, as little ridges rubbed and pressed her sensitive clit. 

She caught Clarke's hand to stop her, drawing it to her lips and tasting herself there as she kissed her fingertips, and then kissed Clarke again and the taste was even stronger, the tangy musk of her arousal, and Lexa sucked the taste from her tongue as she rolled her onto her back.

Clarke writhed beneath her as Lexa began a slow exploration of her body, remembering and reminding herself of all of Clarke's most sensitive places, all the ways she liked to be touched, the sounds she made when she wanted more and the ones when it was too much. And through it all Lexa was acutely aware of the weight between her legs, held in place not by straps but by her own body, and every time it bumped or brushed anything, she felt it. 

"Please," Clarke moaned, looking down at her with pupils blown so wide Lexa could scarcely see the blue around them. "Lexa..."

Lexa crawled back up her body and settled between her thighs, pressing and prodding, trying to master the learning curve of this new extension of her body, until finally she found the right angle and with a slow, steady thrust, buried herself – or as close as she would ever get to it – deep inside Clarke.

* * *

Clarke let out a slow breath as she found herself staring directly into Lexa's eyes, wide with wonder, or awe, or some feeling that couldn't be described, but Clarke knew was echoed in her own. Because here they were, belly to belly, breast to breast, and Lexa was inside her. Even though it was silicone and not flesh, there was something about knowing that it was inside Lexa, that she was feeling every motion, every movement, just as much as Clarke was, made it feel incredibly, impossibly, intimately real. 

"Lexa," she breathed, and Lexa kissed her, barely needing to move because the angle of the toy forced their bodies so close, and they clung to each other as Lexa began to move, slowly at first, experimentally, and then with more confidence as she figured out how to this was different – and the same – as the strap-ons she wielded so masterfully. 

Clarke felt the first wave of climax start to roll through her at the first deep thrust, but it was only a preview of what was to come. She'd made sure to get Lexa off before introducing the toy, because she'd already learned that Lexa's second orgasm was slower to build, and Clarke wanted to make this last as long as possible.

They kissed until they couldn't anymore, and Lexa moaned against Clarke's neck and into her ear as she found her rhythm. Clarke hooked her legs around Lexa's waist, opening herself to let her in deeper, as deep as she could go, rolling her own hips to meet Lexa's, giving Clarke just a little friction on her clit, just enough, sending wave after wave of pleasure through her until the big one finally hit, each exhale a soft moan as it dragged on and on, leaving her shaking and shaken when it finally started to ebb. 

Lexa collapsed, limp on top of her as she found her own release a second later. She started to roll way, but Clarke wrapped her leg over Lexa's thigh so she rolled with her, keeping their bodies locked together and joined as their noses, and then their lips, brushed and parted and brushed again.

"Thank you," Clarke whispered.

Lexa just kissed her. 

Clarke wished she could give in to the urge to doze off, safe and sated in Lexa's arms, but she was acutely aware of that fact that she should be working, that she might have messages popping up on her computer right now, expecting an instant response. And Lexa surely had another appointment to get to...

She tried not to whimper as she slowly eased herself from the shaft between her legs, feeling bereft when the head slipped free. She reached down and pulled it from inside Lexa, though her body seemed determine to hold on for just a few seconds longer. She set it aside and twined around Lexa again, and they clung to each other, a tangle of limbs, until they figured out how to breathe again.

"So," Lexa said. "Your cable?"

* * *

Dressed once again – which they'd had to do separately and on opposite sides of the room to resist the urge to tug off each garment as it was donned – Lexa stared at Clarke's screen, where an unlikely number of men and women were tangled together in what they desperately wanted the audience to believe was the throes of ecstasy, moaning at maximum volume. Literally. 

Lexa wasn't buying it... and she hoped Clarke wasn't either. 

"How did you even _do_ this?" she asked, having to nearly shout to be heard over the TV as she hit button after button on the remote and nothing happened. 

"I don't know," Clarke said, her cheeks flushed, and not just from their earlier exertions. "I was on the couch and I guess I hit it with my foot and—"

Lexa raised an eyebrow. "What were you _doing_ on the couch?" she asked, and laughed when Clarke's face turned even redder. "Okay, so you managed to keysmash it while you touched yourself... to this?"

"No!" Clarke said. "I wasn't... I don't even remember what I was watching! The channel changed, and the volume went up, and when I tried to change it nothing worked! I finally just turned off the power on the TV to make it stop!"

Lexa shook her head and pulled her phone from her pocket, quickly bringing up a page that gave her the codes to reprogram the remote. Her best guess was that Clarke had somehow managed to kick just the right combination of keys to make it so it no longer matched up with her TV. Which was easy enough to fix; Lexa just hoped she was right. 

She quickly pressed in the sequence of numbers for Clarke's brand of TV and hit the volume button, breathing a sigh of relief when it quickly dropped from 100 to a much more reasonable 30, and changed the channel to something – anything – other than porn.

"You know you didn't have to break your cable to get me to come over," she teased, turning the TV off and setting the remote carefully on the coffee table. "You could have just called me."

"You were away," Clarke said. 

Lexa blinked. "Wait, how long has it been like that?" she asked.

"Two weeks," Clarke mumbled. "Give or take."

Lexa closed the distance between them, slipping her arms around Clarke and nudging her face until she turned it up toward. "You still could have called me," she said gently.

Clarke shrugged, her forehead dropping to Lexa's shoulder. "I didn't want to impose on your vacation." 

"I wouldn't have minded," Lexa said, tucking back her hair and kissing her temple. "You can impose on me any time you want." When Clarke didn't smile, Lexa touched her chin lightly, getting her to look up and meet her eyes. "You're not an imposition," she said. "I wish you knew how many times I almost texted you."

"Why didn't you?" Clarke asked. 

Lexa let out a soft laugh. "I guess I didn't want to impose." She swallowed. "I thought I felt something – a spark of something – but then I thought maybe I'd imagined it, and I was just a bootycall, and—" She shrugged, forced a crooked smile. "Am I?" she asked, her heart beating double time, terrified of the answer. "Just a bootycall?"

Clarke shook her head. "No. Maybe the first time... at first... but then..." She shook her head again. "And after today? No way. That was – you were - _are_ \- amazing. I've never felt that connected to anyone, ever, and –"

Lexa kissed her. She kissed her, and kept kissing her, until her phone started buzzing like an angry wasp in her pocket, and even then she kissed her until she couldn't ignore it anymore.

"What?" she said, because it was Lincoln and they had known each other far too long for pleasantries.

"You'd better be en route to your next appointment," he said. "You're supposed to be there in ten minutes and I've already gotten a call from the customer complaining you're late."

Lexa laughed. "You know, I really can't win," she said. "They get mad at you when you're early... they get mad at you when you're not early..." She winked at Clarke, who pressed her face into Lexa's shoulder to muffle her laughter. "But yeah, I'm on my way." 

"Good. I'm too hungover to deal with your shenanigans today," Lincoln joked. 

Clarke stuck out her lip in a pout, and Lexa kissed it back into place, aware that Lincoln could probably hear the sound of mouths meeting and parting and not caring. Clarke followed her to the door, where they kissed again, and Lincoln could hang up any time he wanted...

"See you tonight?" Lexa asked. 

Clarke nodded. "I'll be waiting."

One last kiss, and Lexa closed the door.

"Wait," Lincoln said, "who was that? Was that Lady Sex Dungeon?" 

"A lady never tells," Lexa said coyly. "But yes." And then she hung up, whistling on her way out.


End file.
